


Love letters

by Florchis



Series: Cluster marriage [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29317275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florchis/pseuds/Florchis
Summary: They are moving all together and there is only one box left to unpack.
Relationships: Lincoln Campbell/Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons/Skye | Daisy Johnson
Series: Cluster marriage [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2153472
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	Love letters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [everythinghappensforareason17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythinghappensforareason17/gifts).



> Rated T because sex toys are mentioned. 
> 
> This happens in the same universe as "Bedroom farce" but can be read as a stand-alone.

“Fitz, I need help checking this box!”

The shoebox is carefully sealed, with a heart drawn in the side in Fitz’s handwriting- Daisy should know, she has seen hearts in all of their handwritings enough to be able to tell them apart-, but none other, more useful description. That is no proper moving etiquette. Jemma would be outraged. 

Either way, it is the last box they have to unpack, and Daisy is already feeling the thrill of excitement. This is really happening. After two years of back and forth and setting boundaries and understanding how all of them work together, finally Fitz and Lincoln are moving into her and Jemma’s place. If things go well, the plan is to look into buying a house all together in the near future, and Daisy can not wait.

But first, the box.

Lincoln walks into the kitchen and Daisy can literally see the color fading from his cheeks.

“You are not opening that, are you?”

She wasn’t going to, not until Fitz came back down to see through it with her, but now her interest is picked.

“Don’t tell me this is where you keep your sex toys.” 

Lincoln’s nostrils flare but he doesn’t react in any other way. Damn, she should have saved that teasing for Fitz. He would have fainted, at minimum. 

“Did someone say sex toys?” Jemma comes into the living room tightening her ponytail, looking half scandalized, half down-to-anything. 

Lincoln pulls her close, hugs her, and then tumbles them both down on the couch.

“Daisy is being mean to me, Jem,” he pouts.

“Well, you are a big boy who can defend himself,” Jemma says matter-of-factly while she bops his nose, but she does not make any attempt to disentangle herself from the embrace, settling instead more comfortably on his lap. 

“Who is a big boy?” Fitz enters the living room with a very similar expression to Jemma’s.

Daisy could facepalm herself. They keep getting derailed, while all she wants to do is open this box and get down to business celebrating with them all!

“Lincoln went crying to Jemma about me wanting to open this box,” she replies before any of the other two can. There. Attention successfully redirected.

“Oh, this box.” His face softens immediately, and when he touches it, his fingers are almost reverent. “Did he tell you what I keep inside here?” he asks her conspiratorially, like they are not five feet apart, Lincoln covering his face with his hands, Jemma with eyes and ears wide open.

“Do tell.”

In lieu of a reply, Fitz takes out his swiss knife and uses it to break the tape on the sides of the lid. Inside, there are three tidily tied packages of envelopes of varying colors and sizes. 

“These are the love letters Lincoln has written to me through the years,” Fitz explains, and though he is still trying to be teasing there is an undeniable edge of softness in his voice. Daisy’s heart about melts. 

“You two are the fucking cutest, I swear.” She squeezes Fitz in a hug, unable to contain inside all the love she feels for them, and then turns to glare at Lincoln. “And you tried to make me think it was something embarrassing or bad, you asshole.”

“Hey, I only asked if you were going to open it!”

“While looking like you had seen a ghost!” She promptly gets distracted from her pointless argument with Lincoln by Fitz, who has untied one package and is smiling like a fool while going through one of the letters. “Something you want to share with the class, Fitz?”

His immediate reaction is to press the piece of paper against his chest, and she feels a slight stab of hurt coursing through her veins. She tries to not get too focused on the feeling- for this to work, they all had to understand that their relationship is actually multiple diverse relationships in a delicate equilibrium, and each of them deserves its own share of privacy. 

“Maybe another time,” he murmurs, and he probably is aware of the way she is feeling because he leans closer to give her a kiss that Daisy accepts more than willingly.

It is impossible to stay hurt at him when he looks at her with stars in his eyes.

“You know, I can bring down the poems Daisy wrote for me during her artsy period, if we are in the spirit of sharing,” Jemma chirps in from the couch, clearly also trying to help lighten up the mood.

“You wouldn’t dare!” Daisy hisses at her wife, and when Jemma stage-whispers to Lincoln, _I will show you later_ , she counterattacks, “Jemma named a virus after me!”

“Are we sure that is a good thing?” Fitz asks with his head tilted to the side.

“Exactly my point!” 

“It was made out of love!”

“Can we please get back to Daisy’s poetry?”

There was no better first day of the rest of their lives together than Daisy could have hoped for. 

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of LLF Comment Project, whose goal is to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Prompts
>   * Image reactions
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> This author replies to comments (but it might take a while). If you'd rather not get a reply, please add *whispers* to your comment.



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